The Weight of Blood
by JRDragonfly
Summary: There are stragglers left in Winterfell when the ironborn Boltons arrive. The remaining few are captured, and Roose gives the prisoners to his son to dispose of them as he wishes. -One shot-


The arrow struck him in the eye, and he screamed only for a moment, so abruptly cut off that perhaps the scream was only imagined. The arrow stuck halfway out of his head, the tip visably and meaty through his hair, as the man collapsed against the ground. The apple landed without blemish beside the man's gaping mouth.

Ramsay shrugged and nocked another arrow. "Third time's a charm, they say," he commented easily. He gestured and Reek pulled the dead man out of the way. A solider pushed another man forward.

"Reek," Ramsay said, nodding once.

Reek picked up the apple and put it on the man's head.

"Please," the man blubbered, shivering violently. "Please, don't do this. If you just-"

"Be silent. You know the rules. It would be better if you kept still- You're messing up my aim." Ramsay smiled and pulled back.

The man ducked at the last second, and the arrow sailed harmlessly above him. The apple bounced away and landed in the leaves.

"Please, mercy, my Lord," the man cried, cowering on the dirt and the blood of his former friends. "I can serve you, I-"

Ramsay snatched the man up by the hair and pulled his head back. His neck was exposed and the man swallowed fearfully. Ramsay took an arrow and stabbed the man in the throat repeatedly until the gagging stopped, and there was nothing but blood. He let go of his hair, and the man's body crumpled.

"Give me the next one!" Ramsay ordered, stomping back to his bow.

"That is all of the men, my Lord," a soldier told him.

"How many women?"

"Three."

"I'll deal with them later."

Ramsay waved a hand dismissively. The soldier walked away.

"I still need more practice," Ramsay said. "Reek," he added thoughtfully. "Put the apple on your head." He turned to his servant, who just finished piling the dead man on top of the other dead men to be burned later.

Reek straightened up. His clothes were covered in fresh blood, and filthy from tending the the horses once they had reached Winterfell. His skin was ghostly white and he trembled like a moth missing the scales from its wings. But still he looked down and walked in circles until he found the apple. It was soft in his hands, the skin wrinkled and brown. It was strangely heavy for an apple. He stood where the cowards had stood and placed the apple on his head.

Ramsay smiled thinly and nocked an arrow, drawing back slowly. "Hold still, Reek," he told him mockingly, for Reek never seemed able to stop shivering.

Reek flinched and the apple wobbled, but did not fall. The instant the apple was still again, Ramsay loosed the arrow.

With a hiss of rushing air, the apple was pierced and flung from Reek's head. Bits of rotten apple and juice littered the air before raining down onto Reek's hair. Somewhere behind him, the apple vanished with the arrow in a pile of molding leaves.

"Ah," Ramsay cried cheerfully. "Third time _was _the charm." He went up to Reek, who was frozen in place. He held his lips close to the other's ear. "Go find my arrows," he commanded. His voice was dangerously sweet.

...

"Take it _all _off!"

Ramsay stood by the bed, sword in hand. He didn't know it, but he was in the room that used to belong to a man named Theon Greyjoy, a long time ago.

"If you give me a good time, I might let you live," Ramsay added.

The woman cried and did as she was told. Ramsay glanced over to make sure that Reek was watching, and he grinned at him. While Ramsay's eyes were elsewear, the woman on the bed picked up a large splinter of wood and held it behind her back.

The fire was going in the fireplace, and there were candles along the tables, but the curtains were drawn and the doors were closed. Reek, Ramsay, and the women were the only ones in the room. Outside, soliders kept prisoner the other two women until Ramsay had need for them.

Ramsay turned to the woman. He walked to her and removed his clothes as he went. His body was sleek and muscular and dark in the dim room. He took hold of his manhood and warmed in with one hand, reaching for the woman with the other.

She whimpered as Ramsay jerked her towards him by the ankle. He pushed her knees apart and positioned himself for violation. Ramsay licked his lips hungrily, and rammed himself inside of her.

The woman arched her back and screamed.

Ramsay ignored her and thrust himself in deeper, harder, faster. She reached for him with one hand, but he slapped her away. The woman still had the splinter behind her back. She glared at Ramsay with utter loathing, but then an idea came to her.

"Please," she said softly. "Kiss me."

Ramsay paused in his animalistic rape and looked at the woman's face. Her eyes were glistening, yet a small, desperate smile played about her lips. She had her arms spread out seductively above her head, her pale breasts large and tight against her chest. Her stomach turned into his, for he was still inside of her, and her legs hung from the bed on either side of him like spider's legs.

Ramsay sucked in his breath and grinned. He grabbed the woman by the jaw and pulled her up to him. "No, _you_ kiss _me_," he ordered.

The woman cringed and kissed him on the lips, and he forced her to stay against him as he shoved his tongue into her mouth.

The woman raised the splinter slowly and aimed for Ramsay's heart.

"My Lord!" Reek burst out. He ran and threw himself at the woman, knocking her off the bed and away from Ramsay. They tumbled together in the floor, and the woman wailed.

"Fuck it all," Ramsay swore. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Reek?" He demanded hatefully.

"She-she-she," Reek sputtered, pointing at the woman but staring at Ramsay.

The woman took the splinter and stabbed Reek in the back. Reek let out a short cry, then turned and struck her across the cheek. She fell to the side and her head hit the floor hard, and she went unconcious.

Ramsay walked over to Reek, his manhood bouncing in the other man's face. Reek looked down.

"You saved me," Ramsay said.

Reek kept his eyes away.

Ramsay went around Reek and knelt at his back. The splinter was in deep and jagged, and blood streamed down in thin little ribbons. Ramsay seized it and pulled it out.

Reek sharply drew in his breath.

"This next one will be yours," Ramsay told him viciously. "Would you like that, Reek?" He stood and pulled on his pants, and waited at the door.

"Let the next one in," he called. He glanced over his shoulder at Reek, who remained sitting in the floor. "Reek, I'm giving you a gift. You ought not refuse it. It's very rude."

"Sorry, my Lord," Reek mumbled. He stood up shakily and limped to Ramsay's side.

The door opened and a young woman entered. Her hair was bronze and her skin was as pale and delicate as a bird's egg. She looked at Ramsay and Reek with terror in her eyes, which doubled as the door slammed shut behind her.

"Please, my Lords," she began, her voice weak. She caught sight of the other woman lying on the floor beside the bed, and she gasped. There was a puddle of blood circling her skull. She backed up until she hit the door. _"Please..." _

"What is your name?" Ramsay asked.

"Miranda," the woman said, fighting back tears.

"Miranda." Ramsay smiled. "This is Reek." He gestured to the bleeding slave at his side. "Reek, say hello."

"Hello," Reek said immediately. He lifted his eyes to the woman's. "My lady," he added gently.

Ramsay cut his eyes at Reek, but Reek didn't notice.

"Miranda, undress and get on the bed. Reek, you too. Show her what you are."

Miranda went to the bed and undressed. Her body was thin from malnutrition, her breasts no bigger than an adolescent's. She sat down on the edge of the bed quietly and stared at Reek as he approached her.

Reek took off his shirt. His skin was mutilated with scars. He slipped off his shoes. His missing toes made his feet hideous to look at. He stood like a statue, his fingers hooked in the band of his pants, but he would not pull them down.

"Reek," Ramsay said warningly. "Remember what I said before."

Reek stared at the floor. He twitched and his breathing became ragged, but after another moment, he untied his pants and let them fall to his ankles.

The woman gasped, and Reek flinched.

"You're..." the woman breathed, but couldn't continue.

"Touch her," Ramsay commanded, smiling a twisted smile.

Reek went to Miranda. He extended a shaking hand. He placed it on her right breast. She shivered. His hand was cold. He put his other hand on her shoulder, and rubbed carefully down her arm. He watched what he was doing, and would not meet her gaze.

Her hand found his and she gently closed her fingers over his, and with her thumb, she rubbed the stump of Reek's finger where Ramsay had removed it. Their eyes met.

"No, Reek. _Touch_ her."

Miranda hesitated, then spread her legs and an invitation.

Reek swallowed and backed away. He shook his head at the floor.

"No, m-my Lord, I..."

_"What?"_ Ramsay demanded. "Did you say _no_ to me?"

"My Lord, I- I can't- I'm not..."

"Not _what, _Reek?"

"Not a man." His voice was small.

"That's right, Reek." Ramsay came up behind Reek and patted him on the back. Reek flinched. "You're not." Ramsay looked at the woman, who had tucked her knees up to her chest. "But I am."

Ramsay shoved Reek out of the way and went to Miranda, pushing her legs apart. She began to weep, so Ramsay turned her over onto her stomach and pressed her face into the bed, muffling her. He pulled his manhood out of his pants and forced himself inside of her. Her cried were muted, but still there, and Reek flinched at every one.


End file.
